


My Favorite Book

by only_because3



Category: Disney - All Media Types
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-07
Updated: 2014-02-07
Packaged: 2018-01-11 11:59:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1172805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/only_because3/pseuds/only_because3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mulan meets her by absolute chance right after she comes back from deployment in the Middle East.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Favorite Book

**Author's Note:**

> This was prompted to me ages ago and I had written the bulk of it but never got to the end. I'll probably leave it open in case I ever add more. What you need to know: This is set in modern time San Fransisco. Also I use The Beast's unofficial first name (Adam) in this. Everyone else I believe should be recognizable.

Mulan meets her by absolute chance right after she comes back from deployment in the Middle East.  
  
    She’s helping her dad bring in a new shipment of potatoes when Grandma starts lecturing someone out front. Her father sighs and drops his end of the potato sack, hands coming up to rest on his lower back. “Mulan, put that down and go tell her to leave that poor girl alone.”  
  
    She has no idea who he’s talking about but she nods anyway, pulling her hair back into a bun as she makes her way to the front of the deli. Grandma is trying to shove a paper bag into some girl’s hands, shouting at her in a mixture of English and Chinese. To the brunette’s credit, she doesn’t look at all alarmed that Mulan’s grandma is practically assaulting her, instead standing her ground by keeping her hands in her pockets.  
  
    “I have lunch! Really! I just came to drop off rent on my way into work.”   
  
    “You don’t eat enough. Look at you! Too skinny. Just take the sandwich,” Grandma insists and Mulan shakes her head as she finally makes her way over.  
  
    “Grandma, she has somewhere to go.” The brunette looks over at her, a small appreciative smile gracing her features as the stranger readjusts the messenger bag on her shoulder.  
  
    “All she has to do is take. The. Lunch.” Grandma taps the sack lunch against the girl’s chest to punctuate each word and with a heavy sigh, the girl takes the bag.  
  
    “ _Thank you_.” It comes out more genuine than Mulan would have expected.  
  
    Grandma smiles smugly, crossing her arms underneath her chest  before she turns to go back to the kitchen where Ma Ma is calling for her. Mulan scratches the back of her neck and laughs lightly, “Sorry about that.”  
  
    The girl shrugs. “S’okay. I just wish she would let me reimburse her for it.” She tucks the lunch into her bag and then readjusts her oversized glasses. “Are you Zhou’s daughter?”  
  
    Mulan nods and sticks her hand out eagerly before realizing it’s not only dirty, but sweaty as well. She knows she must look like an idiot when she pulls it back just before the other girl goes to grab it and a nervous laugh comes out of her throat as she wipes her hand on her jeans. “Yes. Sorry. I’m Mulan.”  
  
    The stranger smiles widely and takes her hand in hers. “Belle. It’s nice to meet you.”  
  
    Her mind and mouth does that annoying thing where they don’t quite communicate with one another. “Dittise.” Belle’s face screws up and Mulan can feel her entire face flush. “Um, I think I just combined ditto and likewise.” Mulan lets out a breath, looking down at her feet while Belle laughs lightly. “I should let you get on your way.”  
  
    Belle looks down at the watch on her wrist and her hazel eyes widen. “Crap. I’m going to be late. Good thing I’m boss, huh?” A bit of hair falls from Belle’s ponytail and she tucks it back, turning to head up the street. “See you around?”  
  
    Mulan nods and watches Belle make her way out of Chinatown, not even noticing Grandma until she turns to go back inside (after Belle’s rounded the corner). “She rents the space upstairs,” Grandma states as she sprays Windex on the front window, bringing her apron up to wipe it. “Very pretty but very odd.” She has that look in her eyes that Mulan knows isn’t good but Mulan brushes it off for now and goes back to help her dad unload more of the shipment.  
  
\--  
  
    Her bookstore, tiny and cramped, is sandwiched between two restaurants. It’s not the ideal place for her business at all but this building has been in her family for years. When her dad passed away, the restaurant he’d been running was already on the verge of collapse (he’d been unable to compete with the large restaurants that dominated Belden Alley) that the only thing she could do was shut it down and start from scratch.  
  
    She’d always loved books, went to school to become a librarian actually, and so a bookstore made sense. With a little backing from her college roommate Adam, she was able to convert the space in no time.  
  
    The only problem is that, though she does get quite a bit of customers, most only come in because they have time to kill before lunch and they usually don’t purchase anything. She’s got some faithful regulars that keep her afloat and it helps that she carries a lot of hard-to-find books along with used textbooks.  
  
    And, well, it helps that Zhou is flexible on when the rent is due.  
  
    A piece of hair falls in front of her eyes and she sighs as she tucks it behind her ear before pushing her glasses on top of her head. She’s sorting through a new shipment when the bell above the door dings. “Welcome,” she calls out, writing down the title of the book in her hands. “If you need help, give me a holler.” The person clears their throat and when Belle looks up, her glasses slipping back on to her face, she sees Mulan walking up to the counter. “Oh! Hey.”  
  
    Mulan smiles sheepishly. “Hi,” she squeaks and red bleeds onto her cheeks. “Grandma missed you this morning and insisted I come drop off lunch.”  
  
    Belle rolls her eyes but smiles, taking the brown paper bag from the other girl. “She’ll never stop trying to feed me, will she?”  
  
    “Nope,” Mulan answers as she looks around the book shop. “I’m surprised she’s never invited you to dinner.”  
  
    “I’m sure if I came home before your family left for the day, she would.” Belle watches Mulan laugh as she thumbs through one of the books on the long display table in the middle of the store. It’s not until Mulan picks it up that Belle sees the title and she bites her bottom lip to stop her smile from growing. She can’t help but watch in amusement as Mulan stops to read a random paragraph of Lady Chatterley’s Lover only to quickly slam the book shut. “That’s actually a really good read.”  
  
    Mulan glances back at Belle, blushing up to the tips of her ears. “I’m not too sure it’s up my alley,” she stutters out, shoving her hands into the pockets of her fatigues.  
  
    “ _Anything_ is up my alley.” The words come out more suggestive than she intended but she simply rolls her shoulders back. “I even gave Twilight a try. _Horrible_ book but everything is worth at least one go.”  
  
    Mulan nods, making her way back to the counter Belle stands behind. “I haven’t really had the time to read much the past few years.” She fans her hands out, drawing attention to her uniformed pants.  
  
    “Do you like to read?”  
  
    “As much as the next person, I guess. I could get through a book every two months or so before I deployed.” The grandfather clock near the front of the store chimes once and it claims all of Mulan’s attention. “I better get going. I’m meeting a friend for lunch.”  
  
    Belle nods, taking the bag off the counter and putting it in her cubby. “Tell your grandmother thank you for me.”  
  
\--  
  
    She finds herself lingering over certain titles throughout the day. She really knows next to nothing about Mulan other than the fact that she’s in the military and that her family owns a very successful deli in Chinatown. But she pauses when she comes across certain books anyway, wondering if it’d be something Mulan would enjoy.  
  
    By the end of the day, she’s created a decent sized stack of books she couldn’t help but put to the side for the other girl. She’s grabbed a few of her favorites, a few classics, and finally a couple that were popular over the last few years. She also picks up Lady Chatterley’s Lover when she’s on her way out, tossing it on top of the her full bag.  
  
    Belle hopes Mulan won’t mind that she took the initiative to leave her books and _really_ hopes that none of the ones she selected will offend Mulan. She’s been known to like risqué books but she has a feeling that, given enough privacy, Mulan could give any book a chance, even Lady Chatterley.  
  
    She drops the books into the basket right next to the deli door when she gets home, a receipt barring her sprawled ‘For Mulan’ sitting on top of the stack.  
  
\--  
  
     _It may be classified as a children’s book but you enjoyed it! It’s a_ smart _book; the entire series is actually. If you want to read the rest (there are 13), I’ll start adding them to the stack._  
  
    Mulan takes the post it from over Belle’s mailbox and folds it in half, tucking it into her sweater pocket.  
  
    She doesn’t see Belle that often, hasn’t actually seen her for a week, so the only time they really talk to each other through these little notes (Mulan leaves hers on the inside flaps of the books she returns). Now that she’s returned The Grapes of Wrath, she only has one book left, the one she’d picked up when she went into Belle’s store. She’s been avoiding reading it, especially since she usually does her reading when she’s out. She really doesn’t want anyone to know that she’s reading _that_ kind of book. Grandma would definitely ask her a bunch of questions, or worse, look over her shoulder if she read it while working at the counter.  
  
    By the time she does back downstairs, Grandma is sweeping the sidewalk in front of the deli, her old cassette radio blaring Dolly Parton on the patio table. There’s a bag next to her glass of water and Mulan eyes it suspiciously. “Oh, good. You’re here,” Grandma says brightly when she spots Mulan, propping the broom up against the store window. “You need to go back up there. She’s sick.”  
  
    Mulan rolls her eyes and tries to go inside only for Grandma to grab her arm. “She’s not home.”  
  
    Grandma clucks her tongue. “She never left this morning. Yesterday, she came home early, coughing and sneezing the entire flight up.” Grandma grabs the bag from the table, treating it with care. She holds the bottom of the bag and Mulan doesn’t know why Grandma put the bowl into the bag, especially when, upon further inspection, it’s one of the good bowls from the house. “Make sure she eats his, drinks the broth too. If she needs more, I’ll go make more.”  
  
    Mulan starts to protest but Grandma fixes her with a glare. She turns on her heel and really, if Belle _is_ ill, she’s likely sleeping and Mulan would hate to wake her. She decides to just leave the soup (which smells like the horrid stuff Ma Ma used to make for her when she was sick) at Belle’s door but the moment she’s about to set it down, the door opens. She’s eye-to-crotch with a tall, sandy haired guy who looks at her like she’s crazy. “Uh, Elle? There’s a Chinese girl on your porch.”  
  
    Hacking flows out of the flat the same way Dolly Parton came from Grandma’s radio, stopping only to be replaced by three sneezes, each louder than the one before it. “Stop calling people by their race.” The words are horribly stuffy. “And I live in _China_ town. What do you expect?” Mulan straightens out, tucking her hair behind her ear as she cradles the soup, and Belle pops out from underneath the man’s arm. “Mulan! Did you get my note?”  
  
    “This is Mulan,” the man asks and there’s something in his tone that Mulan can’t quite place.  
  
    Belle elbows him in the side. “Go run my shop, ass.” The man drops a kiss into Belle’s messy hair and then smacks her ass. Mulan can feel herself square her shoulders, which is _ridiculous_ because this man is probably Belle’s boyfriend, and plant her feet better when she moves out of the way for him to pass. “Did  your grandma send something?”  
  
    Mulan blinks, realizing a little late that she’d been watching the man’s descent downstairs. “Family recipe,” she answers, turning her full attention to the brunette in front of her. “Tastes horrid but actually does the trick.”  
  
    Belle looks like she’s going to smile but then sneezes in Mulan’s face. “ _Oh my god_ ,” She gears up to sneeze again but this time Mulan manages to get the bag in front of her face just before Belle sneezes again. “I’m _so_ sorry. That was absolutely disgusting.”  
  
    Once Belle takes the bag from her, Mulan pulls her sleeve over her wrist and wipes her face. “It’s, um, okay. Gross but definitely not the worst thing that’s ever happened.” Belle waves for her to follow, the brunette not even checking to see if Mulan’s following as she walks over to her tiny kitchen. Stepping inside hesitantly, Mulan looks around the tiny space filled to the brim with all sorts of things. There’s book shelves lining nearly every wall and the coffee table in front of the ( _really_ scratchy looking burnt orange) couch looks like it’s made out of old records. There’s a chair right next to the door, piled high with sweaters, coats, and , of course, more books. “Wow, you weren’t kidding about loving to read.”  
  
    She thinks Belle tries to laugh but it turns into another couch. “Most people would say I have a problem.” There’s some clattering right after that and then the entire apartment smells like that god awful soup. “Is your grandma trying to poison me?”  
  
    “The worse it taste, the better it works,” Mulan says, imitating her grandma’s accented speech perfectly. Belle pads her way into the living room, a smile on her face and the soup in hand. “If you have a little garlic, that’s usually what I add to make it a little easier to swallow.”  
  
    Belle shrugs her shoulders as she eases herself on to the couch. “Wouldn’t want to taint the recipe.” Mulan stares as Belle blows on her spoonful of soup, her lips carefully pursing around the tip of the metal when she dares to test the temperature. She knows she should look away, especially once Belle’s face scrunches up _adorably_ once she sips all the soup from the spoon, but she can’t because then Belle’s tongue darts out to catch the drop that runs down the corner of her lips.  
  
    Belle quirks an eyebrow when she catches Mulan gaping at her and _why_ is she making an ass of herself around this girl? “I should get back downstairs,” Mulan mumbles, keeping her eyes on her feet. “I hope you feel better.”  
  
    “I’ll show you out.” Mulan turns back around to see Belle struggling to get off to where she’s sunk into the couch. Mulan waves for her to rest, picking up a blanket from the back of the couch. She can feel Belle watching her just as intently as she’d been watching Belle just a moment ago and it only serves to keep Mulan’s cheeks flushed.  
  
    “You’ve got to rest,” Mulan stammers out. She throw the blanket over Belle, makes sure that her feet are covered too. “Eat the soup and don’t get up unless you _have_ to. You’ll be good as new tomorrow.”  
  
    She dares to glance at Belle’s face and finds what Mulan thinks may be the sweetest smile she’s ever seen (and god, she’s completely head over heels for this girl. Belle’s face is red and a bit swollen, her nose definitely running and yet Mulan still thinks she’s absolutely gorgeous). “I don’t think I can remember the last time someone took care of me like this.”  
  
    Mulan clears her throat. “What about that guy,” she asks carefully, picking up the bowl of soup.  
  
    “Adam?” Belle tries to laugh again, but a cough comes out instead. “He hates sick people. It was amazing that he actually came inside today.” Belle’s fingers glide over Mulan’s when she takes the bowl and it looks like Belle’s smile gets a little bigger as their hands touch but Mulan couldn’t swear to it. “Have you started ‘Lady Chatterley’s Lover’ yet?” Her face officially feels like it’s on fire. “I don’t mean to embarrass you,” Belle says softly.  
  
    Mulan clears her throat and shakes her head. “No, I haven’t started it yet. It’s not something I want Grandma reading over my shoulder.”  
  
    Belle gathers another spoonful of soup. “She could enjoy it.” Mulan blinks, her eyes wide and Belle manages to get a laugh out. “Well, that certainly drained the color from your face.”  
  
    “That’s my _grandma_ ,” Mulan shrieks, digging the heels of her hands into her eyes.  
  
    “Well, she obviously enjoyed a good roll-”  
  
    “Please, god, don’t finish that sentence,” Mulan begs, shaking her head quickly.  
  
    Belle balances the soup on her lap and puts her hands up. “I’ll stop, but only if you promise to start reading tonight.”  
  
    Mulan feels her whole body relax. “Deal.”  
  
\--  
  
    She’s exhausted. Shang insisted they were just going on a fun run but she stupidly forgot fun runs to him are at least 3 hours.  
  
    ‘Lady Chatterley’s Lover’ sits on her bedside table and she knows that Belle would have no way of knowing whether or not she actually started reading tonight. But, she rolls over intending to go to sleep and suddenly she starts feeling guilty. _Guilty!_  
  
    “Oh, Mulan,” she says out loud. “You’re losing it over a girl who isn’t even gay or single.”  
  
    She flops on to her back and picks up the book. She’ll read the first chapter and then call it a night.  
  
    She opens the book and instead of finding the first words, a post it note sits on the font, Belle’s loopy cursive staring back at her.  
  
   _‘This may be a little forward since we’ve met each other… Two times? But would you like to have dinner sometime? I’d really like to get to know you better. Belle’_  
  
\--  
  
    She wakes up because there is an incessant knocking on her door. It irritates her for only a second before she realizes she was actually _asleep_. Instead of another night filled with almost choking on her own snot, she feels _rested_ and - she inhales deep - she can breathe again!  
  
    The knocking gets quicker and Belle uncurls herself, standing only to stretch. “Suddenly there came a tapping as of someone raping,” she calls, pulling her hair from her sorry excuse for a bun. “Raping at my chamber door.” She opens the door and finds Mulan huffing and puffing out in the hall. Belle smiles brightly, gearing up to thank Mulan for the soup that was obviously came from the gods when Mulan holds up a post it note. “What do you mean by this,” Mulan asks as she works to get her breathing under control.  
  
    Belle goes to adjust her glasses before realizing she’s not wearing them. She laughs at herself as she plucks the note from Mulan’s fingers, moving it just so from her eyes until her own writing becomes readable. “Oh,” she says softly, glancing at Mulan’s angry face before going back to the note. “Was that in- Are you not-” She clears her throat and crumples the note in her fist. She thought for sure that Mulan… “I’m sorry.”  
  
    Mulan shakes her head and then points down the hall. Belle pokes her head outside but sees nothing. Her face screws up, only for Mulan to shake her head again and point wildly towards the stairs. “What about your boyfriend?”  
  
    “My _what_?”  
  
    “You know.” Mulan’s posture changes suddenly; she rises on to her tip toes and puts an arm on the door frame, looking down at Belle with a confused face. Mulan runs her fingers along her eyebrow, like Belle’s seen Adam do _so_ many times, tapping her temple exactly three times. “There’s a Chinese girl on your porch,” Mulan mimics and Belle laughs so hard she snorts (which _hurts_ but, god, totally worth it).  
  
    “Adam? He’s not my boyfriend!” Mulan instantly shrinks back to her size. “I mean, we hooked up once in college but he’s exclusively for dick when he’s sober.”  
  
    “He’s gay,” Mulan gapes, her cheeks gaining what is now a very familiar blush. Belle nods and Mulan covers her face with her hands. “So I just made a complete ass of myself.”  
  
    Belle giggles. “You didn’t make an ass of yourself. A lot of people think Adam’s my boyfriend.”  
  
    Mulan peeks out between two fingers. “Really?”  
  
    Belle nods, fingers wrapping around Mulan’s wrists. Gently, she pulls Mulan’s hands from her face. “Did _I_ make an ass out of myself?”  
  
    She can feel the note she wrote weeks before pressed between their skin, the question she cares about still unanswered. If Adam were here now, he would without a doubt be making fun of her. Whenever she sets her eyes on someone, she is 110% confident that she’ll get a date (or, when she was in college, a great lay). She doesn’t beat around the bush; she’s actually quite the suave bitch. Yet here she is _nervous_ that she’s about to be shot down (and on her own doorstep no less). She’s pretty sure her hands are about to start majorly sweating when Mulan shakes her head.  
  
    Belle exhales with her entire body, belatedly realizing that she hasn’t brushed her teeth in two days and probably has horrendously smelling breath.  
  
    God, not only did she sneeze on this poor girl but now she might as well be releasing toxic gas on her. “I promise you that I’m not normally this gross,” Belle says, finally dropping Mulan’s hands in an effort to shield her own mouth. “How about I make us dinner tonight?”  
  
    Mulan nervously glances down the stairs again, tucks her short hair (which, for the first time, is down around her shoulders) behind her ears. “Is there anyway we can, maybe, not eat in Chinatown?”  
  
    Her alarm clock sounds off in her bedroom but she stays rooted in her spot. “I wasn’t exactly planning on throwing the windows open and letting the entire block know I managed to bed the only daughter of the Fa family.” Mulan’s eyes nearly bug out of her head and Belle clears her throat. “Not that I was planning that for, dessert or anything.”  
  
    Mulan’s starting to look guilty now and all of the experience Belle has had with wooing women has obviously flown out the window. “I’m sorry,” Mulan stammers but Belle shakes her head.  
  
    “No, I’m sorry. It’s just nobody would think we’re ‘entertaining’ each other. Certainly not in _Chinatown_.”  
  
    Mulan scratches at the back of her neck as the alarm clock starts beeping so loud that someone downstairs bangs a broom on the ceiling. “You should probably go get that.”  
  
    Belle looks at her for a moment longer before hesitantly turning around. “Don’t leave.” She waits until Mulan nods before scurrying down the hall to her room. If she plans on actually going to the shop today she needs to get her ass into gear (needed to start at least five minutes ago actually) but she’s tired of scooting around Mulan. Plus, she needs to be charming again, instead of a bitch.  
  
    Belle snatches her glasses from her bed, using the bottom of her, she realizes now, dirty shirt to clean the lenses. She stops in front of her vanity and bends down passed the crack in her mirror. She looks tore up but Belle knows she did yesterday too, so she simply scratches away the dried drool on her cheek and then walks back through the apartment.   
  
    Mulan is wringing her hands, sighing a little bit until she realizes that Belle’s back. “My family doesn’t know,” Mulan says softly, sucking in a big breath before she meets Belle’s eyes again. “And frankly, the thought of anything potentially happening over their deli makes me want to vomit all over your hard wood floors.”  
  
    When she laughs, Mulan looks surprised. “Fair enough. I have to remember that not everyone is like me.” Belle can still see her father’s face when he caught her with her hand down the pants of one of his waiters when she was 16. She’s still not sure if he was more mad then or when she called him to bail out her, Jazz, and A out of jail freshmen year of college. Mulan starts chewing on her bottom lip; she’s going to scare this girl off before they even go on a date.  
  
    “How about you go over to my shop around 6? I can cook for us there.”  
  
    “Are you sure,” Mulan asks and Belle nods, smiling.  
  
    “Of course.” For the first time since Mulan showed up on her doorstep, she smiles. The red is almost completely gone from her cheeks and Belle finds herself missing it slightly. “I do have to go get ready now or else I’ll be swamped until closing and won’t be able to serve you good food.”  
  
    “You know if you’re just going to pick up something from the restaurants around your store, you can just tell me,” Mulan teases and Belle pretends to be hurt.  
  
    “I’ll have you know that I come from a long line of chefs!”  
  
    Mulan taps a fingers against her chin, humming. “And yet you run a book store.”  
  
    Belle rolls her eyes. She pokes her head out of the door, making sure that no one is loitering in front of the entrance downstairs before quickly pressing her chapped lips on Mulan’s cheek. The blush is instant and Belle has to fight her laugh down. “I’ll see you at 6,” she responds, slipping back into her apartment.  
  
\--  
  
    She tugs at the end of her button up shirt as she walks up the street to Belle's shop. She got out of the house easily enough (Shang is always a great excuse) but she's feeling so out of her element right now. It's not like she's never been on a date. My god, she dated Cindy off and on all throughout high school and dated Alice for nearly three years. That was before she was deployed though and, obviously, what little smoothness she had before then disappeared.  
  
    God, had she been this nervous in the beginning with Alice? She must've been. Alice was a popular, posh Orange Country girl. The only thing they really had in common was that they were gay and that was definitely not an option in their families.  
  
    Mulan tugs on her shirt again, looking down at her empty hands. Should she have brought something? Belle was set on cooking but maybe she should've got a bottle of wine...  
  
    The sign on Belle's shop is flipped to 'Closed' which just presents another problem. Does she knock? Does she just walk in? Is Belle even here? Mulan glances at her watch. She is a little early.  
  
    Wine. She'll go buy wine.  
  
    She turns on her heels and starts back up the street, only stopping when she hears, "Standing me up?"  
  
    Mulan looks back to see Belle leaning out of the shop door. She can feel her face heat up and she knows she's as red as the apron around Belle's waist. "I, uh, wine." Mulan swallows hard. "You were watching me the entire time, huh?"  
  
    Belle's lips quirk in the corner as she nods. “You can totally back out if you’d like, but I do already have dinner, including wine,” Belle says pointedly, “All set up.”  
  
    Mulan tucks a chunk of hair that’s fallen from her bun behind her ear as she walks back to Belle, who holds the shop door open for her.   
  
\--  
  
    Belle’s laugh comes from deep in her belly, her face taking on the shade of red that usually finds its home on Mulan’s cheeks. “Oh my goodness,” Belle says around a snort. “That’s… That’s the best story I’ve heard in a while.” Mulan smiles widely and watches Belle tuck back a bit of fallen hair, her other hand going up to touch the apple of her cheek. “My face hurts.”  
  
    This dinner has gone so much better than Mulan thought it would and she really thought that she was going to be even more awkward than she normally is given that this is a date and there’s wine. But here Belle is, genuinely laughing and enjoying herself, all because of Mulan. It makes the butterfly feeling that Mulan didn’t actually think existed grow in her stomach and she hopes that it doesn’t induce loose lips. She takes a sip of wine as Belle smiles over at her  
  
    “That story was 100 percent true,” Belle asks, pushing around the little bit of food left on her plate.  
  
    Mulan nods. “I swear. The entire second floor just completely came down. I had to stop Ariel from pushing Herc off the pier.”  
  
    Belle laughs a little once more. “I can’t blame her… Though the building must not have been very secure it all he had to do was bounce a basketball against the beam for it to crash like that.”  
  
    “Oh the place was a dump,” Mulan admits. “I’m surprised it was still standing when she bought it. S’all okay now though. Her dad had the place rebuilt.” Mulan clears her throat and plays with a loose thread at the bottom of her shirt. “Maybe we could do there sometime… I think you’d really like it.”  
  
    Belle looks between their plates before a grin creeps onto the corner of her lips. “Take me now.”  
  
    Mulan coughs on her own spit and then wheezes. “ _What?_ ”  
  
    Belle laughs again. “To your friend’s store.” She tilts her head and shrugs with a small nod. “Unless you wanted to-”  
  
    “No!” Mulan shakes her head before her eyes get wide. “No! Er, not that you’re not… Not that I wouldn’t wan- Uhm.” Mulan sighs. She knew she wasn’t smooth enough for this date.  
  
    But Belle just keeps grinning at her as she stands up. “We can talk about bedding each other later.” She takes Mulan’s hand in hers and tugs. “C’mon. Show me this shop.”  
  
    Mulan glances at her watch as she allows herself to be pulled up. “I, uh, don’t think Ariel will still be there,” she says, potentially lying. Normally, the place is closed up by 8 but Ariel also has a habit of staying open till 9 if it pleases her.  
  
    Belle shrugs as she grabs her jacket from the coat rack by the door. She passes Mulan her sweater. “You can still show me the outside.”  
  
    Before Mulan knows it, she’s leading them up the hill towards Ariel’s.  
  
\--  
  
    The lights are still on.  
  
    “Does she leave the lights on at night,” Belle asks, her voice already inching higher in her excitement.   
  
    “Nope,” Mulan answers with a small sigh. “She must’ve stayed late.” Mulan rubs the back of her neck, her walk slowing as Belle’s fast stride continues.  
  
    As soon as she notices the lack of warmth behind her, the lack of more stories about Mulan’s time in the Middle East, Belle turns to find Mulan rooted in her spot. “What’s wrong?”  
  
    “I need to warn you,” Mulan starts, the wind pick up around them. “Ariel is overwhelming, much like her store.” Mulan grips the lapels of Belle’s jacket and pulls it around her a little tighter after a big gust of wind. Belle can’t fight back her smile, it growing wider as Mulan doesn’t even seem to recognize that she’s protecting Belle from the chill. “She will as you a lot of invasive questions while simultaneously planning our life together in her head.” Mulan sighs and shakes her head. “She may as well have pulled out wedding magazines when I told her I was having dinner with you.” Belle’s face just quirks up more, trapping her smile from taking up her whole face with her teeth. “I apologize for everything and anything.”  
  
    Belle grabs Mulan’s hands and squeezes them lightly. “You don’t have to introduce me, you know.” Mulan’s eyebrows rise with surprise and Belle takes that moment to lace their fingers together. “I know that’s kind of a big stuff and we’re still…” Belle shrugs. “We’re figuring things out. No need for any pressure.”  
  
    “So you’d just…?”  
  
    “I could just be a random customer if she’s still letting them in,” Belle offers, dropping one of Mulan’s hands as she starts walking them the rest of the way to the store.  
  
    “You’d be okay with that?”  
  
    Belle grins up at her and nods. “’Course. Anything to make you more comfortable.” She runs her nails lightly over Mulan’s palm before pulling away from the other girl all together. “I’ll meet you inside. Hopefully.”  
  
    Mulan nods and when Belle’s half way to the store, she glances back to see Mulan staring down at her hand.  
  
\--  
  
    She doesn’t see Belle when she walks in.  
  
    “Mulan,” Ariel exclaims from behind the counter. “Didn’t think I’d be seeing you tonight! Dinner not go well?”  
  
    Mulan forces a smile as she shakes her head, acutely aware that Belle can hear her, wherever she is in the store. “I think it went good,” she says, leaning against the counter as Ariel rests her chin on her fists.  
  
    “Oh, come on. You’ve got to give me more than that.” Ariel rises onto her knees on the chair (which makes Mulan nervous given the chair is on wheels). “Tell me everything. Set the scene.” She pauses for a second. “Is that what you wore?”  
  
    “Yes?” Mulan glances down, pulling her shirt away from her body so she can get a better look. “Why? Is there a stain?”  
  
    Ariel shakes her head. “No, it’s just that’s the shirt that shows your nips if you don’t wear the right bra.” Ariel squints at her chest and Mulan could swear she hears Belle snort from within the depths of the store. “You remembered though. Good job.”  
  
    Mulan sighs. “ _Anyway_ , there’s not much to tell. We had good food, good conversation… It was nice.”  
  
    The redhead stares at her then leans back on her legs. “You’re not telling me something.”  
  
    “Ariel, I swear that nothing of importance happened.”  
  
    Ariel kind of frowns. “So, no more dates?”  
  
    Mulan scratches the back of her neck. “Uh, I don’t know?”  
  
    “Would you want one?”  
  
    Mulan shifts uncomfortably, not sure what to say. She really did have an amazing time with Belle tonight. But what if Belle didn’t? She doesn’t want a second date out of pity. “I said I had a nice time,” Mulan stresses, but it still isn’t enough for her friend.  
  
    “Well _I’m_ nice, Mulan and  you don’t want to date me.” Ariel tosses her hair over her shoulder before waving her hand around. “Relationships involve passion!”  
  
    Mulan huffs. “Not everyone has passion like you.”  
  
    Ariel, of course, doesn’t blush. “You _wish_ you had my passion.” She pauses, then concedes, “Though, I suppose you do save a lot of money being uniquely you.”  
  
    Mulan quirks an eyebrow. “Because I don’t have a munchkin to look after?”  
  
    “Oh, I suppose that way too,” Ariel says. “But I meant that you don’t spend an arm and a leg on sex toys.” Mulan blushes which only makes Ariel laugh until the store’s phone starts ringing. “Ariel’s Thrifty Grotto. What’s up?” It’s Eric from what Mulan gathers, and she’s about to walk away when Ariel’s eyes get bigger than normal. “ _What?_ How did she even-” Eric cuts her off and Mulan looks on, concern rising as Ariel pulls her purse from the cabinet behind the counter. “I’ll meet you at the hospital.” Ariel slams the phone down, groaning. “Mel has apparently broken her wrist. Or sprained it. I’m not sure.”  
  
    “What happened,” Mulan asks, holding open the swing door as Ariel grabs her scarf.  
  
    “Eric says she was trying to summersault but then something went wrong. I don’t know.” Ariel pulls two sets of keys from her purse. “There’s still a customer roaming. Lock up for me?”  
  
    “Of course.” Mulan catches the keys when they’re thrown at her and waves. “Keep me updated.” Ariel nods as she runs out the door, leaving Mulan to exhale against the counter.  
  
\--  
  
    Belle inspects all the little knick knacks on one of the hundreds of bookshelves as she hears Mulan walking towards her. “Mel is her daughter?” She glances over to see Mulan nod and Belle frowns slightly. “I hope she’ll be alright.”  
  
    “Mel’s a tough kid. I’m sure she’ll bounce back.”  
  
    Belle nods and then walks a little further into the aisle, forcing Mulan to follow her. There’s a row of tea cups next to a row of books and she fingers the rim of one teacup, her skin catching a little when it crosses the chipped porcelain. “So, tonight’s been nice?” She keeps her voice even in hopes that it doesn’t sound like she’s trying to trap Mulan into an answer. Belle had been having an amazing night but now she’s not too sure if Mulan did too. She had thought… Well, she thought they were really hitting it off. But maybe she misread the situation. Maybe that was why Mulan didn’t want her to meet her friend.  
  
    She sees Mulan wince out of the corner of her eye and Belle tries not to sag. “It’s been very nice…” She finds herself nodding again as she moves over to the row of books, all the covers worn and giving off a musty scent. “I can’t gush when I know you’re listening,” Mulan adds and Belle’s hand stills along the spine of the book.  
  
    “So there’s stuff to gush about,” Belle asks, her voice as light as it’d been earlier this night. She turns to look at Mulan, a smile back on her face, when she’s met with Mulan’s lips against hers. It’s a little awkward at first but then Belle turns more fully, allowing Mulan to take her top lip between her own. Belle sinks into, hand finding purchase on Mulan’s hip, and she lets her tongue graze lightly against Mulan’s lip. When they finally part, Mulan tinged pink and Belle short of breath, she laughs. “You kissed me!” She takes another breath only to laugh again, her arm sliding around Mulan’s waist. “I thought I’d have to be the one to push things along.” Belle rises on to her toes and gives Mulan a quick peck.  
  
    Mulan smiles and shrugs, looking up at the ceiling as she sucks in a deep breath. “I’m not _always_ awkward,” Mulan admits once she looks back down at Belle.  
  
    There’s no holding back her smile at this point. “I think you’ll have to make a believer out of me.”  
  
    “Oh?”  
  
    “Yeah,” Belle says. “That means a lot more dates… If you’re okay with that.”  
  
    Mulan tilts her head to the side. “How many is a lot more?”  
  
    Belle hums and taps her fingers along Mulan’s back. “Who knows? It could take years.”  
  
    They walk towards the front of the store, her arm still wrapped firmly around Mulan’s waist and Mulan’s now draped over her shoulders. “I think that if you're willing to be patient with me,” Mulan starts, flipping off the lights as they stand by the window front, leaving only the fixture outside and the moon as their only source of light. “That sounds perfect.”  
  
    Meeting each other halfway, Belle murmurs, “Perfect,” against Mulan’s lips.  
  



End file.
